


Goodnight Kiss

by grl



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: M/M, zarry is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8235053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grl/pseuds/grl
Summary: After Zerrie break up, Zayn reflects on getting drunk with Harry for the last time on tour together. Zayn can't tell the truth and Harry's not an idiot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when Zerrie broke up and also because it definitely happened. I might write a second part since it's old af now.

Zayn watched the tweets unfold as he grimaced at the fact he had clicked on the Perrie trending topic. He tried scanning them, but they were appearing too fast for him to keep up. His iPhone blinked relentlessly on his periphery. Zayn clicked his laptop shut and tapped into his phone.

Liam- 3 messages. Niall- 1 message. An email from Louis.

Nothing from Harry.

Harry's silence wasn't unusual at times like this- the big stuff left him muted and uneasy. Zayn took a deep breath, unable to let it back out without his throat shaking.

"Just text me, you daft git," he muttered to himself, padding around aimlessly on his phone. He tapped into the last iMessages between himself and Harry, scrolling up and down, catching the only words he wanted to see. _Love, miss, soon, mine._

He pondered Harry's potential nonchalance to his split with Perrie. Maybe it was irrelevant to Harry now; maybe the shy eye contact backstage before he left was nothing but eyes meeting randomly. 

The week before he left the band, he had been drinking in a hotel bar with Harry after a show. The bar was reserved for the band and crew, and everybody was too tired to stay. Zayn and Harry had a habit of being unable to sleep at the same time.

"Why so quiet babe? You've not been with it today like."

"We're recording all these songs and it's just so tiring. I mean I love it, but it's tiring," Harry replied.

Zayn tipped his head back and finished his beer, pushing the empty bottle to the end of the table before slumping his head down.

"Agreed mate. I'm exhausted."

Harry held his silence and Zayn panicked. Everytime there was a gap in conversation Zayn was afraid somebody would ask him about himself, his future, his relationship. Right then he was grateful for Harry being the unassuming person that he always had been.

"I'm making so many mistakes," Zayn said.

"What mistakes?"

He lifted his head, "Everything in life. Maybe it's the beer."

"Alcohol has a history of making things a bit too dramatic."

"Yeah, 'specially with us."

"Those were the days... or something," Harry smiled a mild smirk and kept sipping his red wine, "the past is the past?"

Zayn tugged at a couple of his rings and propped his head up to rest on his chin.

"I wish it wasn't in the past. Things change and all that. Girls happen."

"Not to me," Harry retorted, his smile growing wider.

"Aye, cheeky git. You ever gonna explain that or is it a mysterious Harry thing?"

"Saving myself for your second divorce. I'll be there with a bottle of Moët and condoms after Rihanna divorces you."

Zayn giggled and mentally reproached himself for such a girlish laugh. Harry loved to make Zayn laugh since day one and probably until the very last day, too.

"Moët and condoms is very X-Factor of you babe," Zayn said.

"Exactly, it'll be sentimental when you're 40 and skint."

Zayn went along with the cute drunken banter, but the sober truth was that Harry probably wouldn't forgive him for leaving the band. He'd be polite, but he wouldn't forgive him.

Harry pulled his chair a little closer to Zayn's, "What's wrong? Was that a shit joke? I'm sure Rihanna wouldn't divorce you really..."

"Course she wouldn't babe, how could she leave this?" Zayn gestured to his face, instantly cackling. Harry didn't blink.

"Zayn," he set his wine down, "nobody is going to leave you."

Zayn's breath stalled.

"Well," he began.

"Yeah?"

The distance was the same but it was closing in now and Zayn felt young again, the frenzy of his career dissolving from him while Harry just watched.

"Nobody leaves me, babe. That's my job, isn't it?"

Harry's brow furrowed.

"I know you're talking about big things, but it's like you left me sometimes. It's like you leave me a lot, Zayn."

Zayn sat up straighter and looked over the huge table they had to themselves. He needed to find a drink, anything- even a half finished brandy would do. He stood up to grab half a Corona from the end of the table. He poured it down his neck and looked over to see Harry sitting exactly as he was before.

"Maybe I'll go to bed, you know? Leave you to finish everybody's drinks."

"That's a bit fucking uncalled for, Harry. It's been a hard day."

Harry set his glass down and stepped towards Zayn. He didn't know when they'd last been this close. He knew that he was far foo attracted to everything about Harry to be this close to him.

"Maybe when you've fixed your mistakes, this will work better."

"She's not a mistake," Zayn said.

"I don't mean her. I mean the boys, our band."

Zayn reached towards the cuff of Harry's shirt, "This band isn't a mistake, either. I make bad choices, babe. You know that."

"Like me?"

Zayn placed his fingers along Harry's wrist.

"Not you. You are the furthest thing from a mistake."

That was how they had left it that night and now Zayn was sitting by himself as a solo artist and a single man, ruminating about how he'd left Harry without a goodnight kiss- the only way he had wanted to say goodbye at all.


End file.
